World of the Giant Leaves: Finding Your Voice and Sense of Belonging.

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A small bird fell off her branch. And walked among the giant leaves, too afraid to use her wings.

Her steps were small. As if she was walking along the edge of the Earth. Her breath was cautious, no longer calm among the surface world of things. When she found food, she ate slowly, as if she didn’t trust it would come again. She would make small noises, single notes of song, to ensure that she, indeed, still had a voice. But her calls were timid, soft, and a bit broken.

She had lost her branch, the place of her perch, where a small bird feels mighty. Now, the giant leaves swarmed around her, and crunched beneath her little feet. She missed their rustling. She missed many things.

The wind no longer carried her melody, but pushed her over when her legs felt tired. In a world of crunching leaves and shoving winds, she wondered what would come of her wandering. She didn’t know if she was moving forwards or backwards, or even which was better. The world of the giant leaves felt directionless and brown.

But, somehow, she kept moving her tiny feet, and the crunching of the giant leaves, one unidentifiable day, became a comforting sound. The sound of her little, life energy that was still moving. The pulse of her feet that carried her.

Walking on the giant, dried leaves felt a little like walking on death. This, to her, was like walking on water. And she continued on. Chest puffed a little higher.

But… most nights… she still fell asleep dreaming of her branch, high up in the sky.

One early morning, when she woke up, there was a world of creatures around her. Not one that was the same species as the other, but with a stark resemblance that was not physical. A ghastly beautiful family of misfits. There was a glowing orange hue around them. She wondered if she was still dreaming. She felt she had, finally, been claimed. In a beautiful cacophonous chorus, they gave their welcome :

“We are the clan that lives among the giant leaves. No one is a belonging but everyone belongs. Many of us dropped from the skies like you. Welcome, giant one.”

Tears moved along the rim of her eyes and she whispered to herself,

“They called me Giant!”

And she let out a call that matched how giant she felt.

And somehow, it shook the world.



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Deborah Anne Quibell
As a professional writer and editor, Deborah Anne Quibell believes passionately in breathing enchantment, meaning and soul into everyday existence. She lives for moments of captivation, and relentlessly pursues the magic and language of the heart. In addition to the rocking pages of Rebelle Society, you can find her writing on various online publications including Huffington Post UK, Expanded Consciousness, and The House of Yoga. She is a featured author in the book "Chicken Soup for The Soul: Dreams and Premonitions" published in 2015. A wanderer now living in Amsterdam, Deborah is currently a PhD Candidate in Depth Psychology, with emphasis in Jungian and Archetypal Studies. She teaches Pranic Healing, Yoga, and Meditation in various places throughout the world. She can often be found with an americano in one hand and a green juice in the other.
Deborah Anne Quibell
Deborah Anne Quibell

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Deborah Anne Quibell